


The Prank War

by tbiru



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arc Reactor Angst, F/M, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Panic Attack, Poly, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, worried steve rogers and phil coulson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbiru/pseuds/tbiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prank war escalates, leaving Buck, Steve and Agent to deal with the aftermath.<br/>One crispy archer.<br/>A slightly traumatized genius.<br/>And a very pissed off spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve and Coulson stare at each other in exasperation.

“What in Gods name is going on in here?”

Tony sticks his head out from behind the couch. His hair and face are covered in neon pink paint and glitter. “Oh hi honey.” he grins at Steve and then nods his head towards Coulson. “Agent.”

“Stark,” Coulson sighs. “Nat, Clint, you two can come out now, I know you’re involved in this mess.”

The living room is in tatters. An arm chair is knocked over on it’s side with some of the stuffing ripped out. The television is cracked down the middle, the coffee table is being used as cover. Almost everything is splattered in glitter, paint, feathers and what looks--and smells--like egg yolks.

Natasha appears seemingly out of nowhere, behind the two men. She’s suspiciously spotless, despite the chaos everywhere. “Hello.” she leans over and pecks Coulson on the lips in greeting.

Clint pops up a moment later, from underneath the overturned coffee table with a loony smile on his face. “Hey there sweet cheeks. How was your day?”

He’s all yolks and feathers.

Steve’s face scrunches up and he looks like he might be in the middle of staving off a headache. “What did you three do?” he looks around. “I thought Bruce was watching you  guys today.”

Tony huffs, indignant. “Hey! I’m an adult. I don’t need supervision.”

Natasha covers her smirk behind her hand, “We fed him up with our shenanigans.” she admits, very proud of herself. Which is not surprising--Bruce is not an easy person to irritate.

“It was just a prank.” Clint rolls his eyes. “I messed with Tony’s coffee maker so that it would spray him with glitter and paint when he tried to use it this morning.” he shrugs.

Tony nods, “So I built a robot to chase him around with feathers and some glue.”

Coulson raises an eyebrow. “And the eggs?”

Natasha smiles innocently. “I was trying to make scrambled eggs. Couldn’t concentrate with those two running amok in the kitchen. So I joined them.”

Clint glares at her. “You _joined_ _him_ , you traitor!” he looks imploringly at the agent and says, “She only aimed for _me_!”

Tony laughs. “‘Cause you’re the only birdbrain here.”

Steve scrubs a hand over his face. “This is the second time this week that you three have destroyed property in this little prank war of yours.”

Tony steps out from behind the couch and shakes off some of the glitter, albeit fruitlessly. “Aw, don’t be so grumpy, sugar plum! C’mere, gimme’ a hug!”

Steve’s eyes go wide. “Tony, don’t you dare.”

But Tony’s already waltzing over, grinning wildly.

Thankfully Bucky steps in not a moment too soon to help the captain. “Prank war again?” he asks, already knowing the answer, as he swoops the smaller man up and over his shoulder. Tony whoops and plays the drums on Bucky’s ass and yells, “This could’a been you, Rogers!” as he’s carried out of the room.

Steve snorts and shakes his head as he watches his two lovers and then follows after them in fond exasperation.

Coulson’s still glaring at his own lovers. “I hear about a third incident and we will be having words, kids.”

Natasha arches a brow. “Oh come now, it’s just silly pranks.” It’s all harmless fun. Sure, it gets to be a little much sometimes, like the furniture becoming unfortunate casualties of war, but Tony’s loaded and that couch was ugly anyway. She does feel bad about the television screen, though.

“Right, silly pranks between a civilian and two trained agents.” Coulson reminds them.

Clint groans. “Tony’s so far from a civilian, Phil. He’s an evil super genius, ok?--he created a robot specifically designed to fling feathers and glue at me! That was like fifteen minutes after I’d sabotaged the coffee machine! _Fifteen minutes_!”

Coulson finally cracks a smile. “Well, you do make a pretty bird.”

Clint poses flamboyantly, preening. “Don’t I, though?”

“Alright, alright, just, make sure it doesn’t get out of hand, okay? I trust you two won’t let this prank thing escalate further?”

Natasha sticks out her pinky finger. “You have my word.”

  


One week later the toaster goes boom and nearly takes Clint’s fingers clean off.

It’s only thanks to his quick reflexes that the small but dangerous explosion only scorches the knuckles of one hand. “Fucking hell!” he shoves his hand under the sink immediately and glares daggers at the offending kitchen appliance. “Jesus Stark,” he mutters to himself.

He’s putting burn cream on the wound when Natasha walks into their room, back from a mission debrief with Fury at HQ. “Were you playing with the oven again?” she asks, sitting down next to the archer and taking the injured hand in hers for further inspection. “I thought Phil made you swear not to, after what happened last time.” the redhead admonishes lightly.

Clint pouts. “It wasn’t that bad.” he denies. “Anyway, it was the damn toaster! I plugged it in and it freaking blew up on me!”

Natasha looks up sharply. “What the hell?”

“Right? I know Phil said not to escalate the prank war, but it’s on, Nat. It is so on. I’m gonna’ get that little mad scientist back.” Clint vows. “But shit, guy must overestimate me, thing nearly burned my hands to a crisp.” he grimaces.

Natasha nods. “Right. You have fun with that.” she pats him on the shoulder and gets up.

And if Clint wasn’t so focused on his revenge scheming, he’d notice how tense his partner is as she leaves their room.

  


Natasha finds the older man in their giant home gymnasium, working out near the punching bags.

“Stark, we need to talk.”

Tony spots her from across the room and takes off his headphones. “What’s up?”

“That prank you pulled this morning.”

Tony grins. “Was his face priceless? I’ve been waiting all morning for his retaliation!” he whirls a finger in the air. “It’s how come I’m in the gym, ‘stead of my workshop, less collateral damage means less lectures from the dynamic duo that is Cap and Agent.”

Natasha narrows her eyes. “Don’t you think you went overboard?”

Tony waves her off. “No way. All’s fair in love and war, Nat, you know that.”

The spy locks her jaw. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” then she shrugs off her jacket and starts wrapping her hands. “Get on the mat, Stark.”

“Bossy,” Tony smirks, “I like it.” He wraps his fists too and shrugs off his sweat shirt. “So what is this? Fighting for Clint’s honor?” he barely gets the words out before he’s knocked on his ass by a quick swipe of the feet. He gets up quickly enough--he’s trained with Natasha before, after all, she’s a sneaky sneak, is what she is--and ducks to avoid getting hit in the face.

She’s relentless, knocking him down time and again, barely letting him get back up, although Tony manages to hold his own surprisingly well, shoving her off of the mat a couple of times.

When she lands a particularly sore roundhouse kick to his lower stomach, Tony holds up one hand, the other wrapped around his midsection while he tries to catch his breathe. “Okay, okay, lesson learned, but seriously, you can’t say that shit wasn’t hilarious.”

And it’s the wrong thing to say, because before he’s standing fully upright she attacks again.

She's aiming for his shoulder, knowing that it'll knock him off balance. But she's too angry and she doesn't account for how slowly he's actually moving and then Tony's flying straight across the mat, landing flat on his back. 

 _Crack_. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a ridiculous amount of writers block, but here it is! finally.   
> last chapter should be posted by the end of this week.   
> also lets all pretend JARVIS is super busy throughout the arguing bc otherwise he'd have fixed this whole misunderstanding way before his creator could get injured and there would be no story....  
> thanks for reading/commenting/the kudos! and sorry for the long wait.

“Tony? Tony, look at me, I’m right here, okay? Just look at me. You’re safe, you’re in the tower with me, with everyone--” Steve swallows down the lump in his throat. 

His partners’ eyes are wild and frightened and his hands are covered in blood. 

“Tony, please, you’re hurting yourself.” Steve wants so badly to reach out and take Tony’s hands away from his chest but he knows better by now. Touching him in the middle of a panic attack would only send the man into further hysterics. 

“Steve?” Tony looks up for the first time, making eye contact. 

“That’s right, it’s me honey, I’m right here,” he assures, it takes another couple of minutes of gentle convincing before Tony stops breathing so harshly and even more time to get him to stop clawing at his chest. 

“Can I hold your hands?” Steve is beyond relieved when Tony nods absently and lets him inspect his injuries. There are nasty gashes on his palms from the shattered pieces of glass in the arc reactor. Most of them are surface cuts, but there’s a couple of deep ones bleeding steadily enough to form a small puddle of dark red on the blue mat. 

Natasha comes from behind and offers him a clean hand towel from the other side of the gymnasium. “Keep pressure on that; it’s going to need stitches.” she grimaces, clenching and unclenching her fist. 

“Thanks.” Steve rubs his thumb across Tony’s wrist, “I need to stop the bleeding, Tony, it’s gonna’ hurt, but I need you to keep still for me, okay?” 

Tony’s got this blank look on his face now, but after several long seconds he nods mutely. 

The moment Steve applies pressure to the wound Tony starts trembling, “Stop.” he mumbles, voice raw. 

“Baby, I told you, I need to--” 

“Stop, please, stop, I won’t, I won’t build anything, I just want to go home. Please.” he whimpers, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Steve almost lets go right then and there, but Natasha presses her hand against the one Steve has over Tony’s palm. “You  _ are  _ home, Tony, I promise.” she says softly, trying to keep all her immense guilt at bay for the time being. This is not about her right now.

  
  
  


Coulson comes home, regrettably, to more than he bargained for. 

There’s blood all over the mat in the gymnasium, and when he asks what the hell happened, JARVIS tells him he’s needed in Banner’s lab immediately. 

The Agent wastes no time.

As soon as he’s at the entrance of the laboratory, he realizes why JARVIS called for his presence. 

Natasha and Bucky are at each other’s throats, yelling angrily in Russian, Steve in between the two in what looks like a futile attempt at getting them to settle down. 

Clint, hair a neon pink hot mess, is seated next to Tony, who’s getting stitches on his palm by Bruce, who is steadfast ignoring everything around him in order to complete the task at hand. 

“Enough!” he booms, taking only a slight twinge of triumph when several people in the room jump in surprise. It’s enough, at least, to get everyone to stop talking for a moment. “Someone explain to me what happened here. Now.” When he sees everyone go to start talking at the same time he holds up a hand and says, “One person. From the beginning.” 

Natasha clears her throat, “This whole mess is technically my fault--” 

“‘Technically’ my ass, it damn well--” Bucky interrupts, only to be silenced by Coulson’s unimpressed glare. 

“One at a time, I want the full story.” He looks back at the redhead and nods for her to continue. 

“I was upset with Stark and instead of waiting until I wasn’t so pissed off to give him a much deserved ass whooping on the mat, I let my anger get the best of me. I fucked up and,” she looks away. “I ended up breaking the glass casing over the arc reactor.” 

Coulson almost sucks in an audible breath at the confession. The arc reactor is one of those very touchy subjects with Tony. Tony himself is sitting there, getting stitches, looking completely unresponsive, like he’s checked out. 

“And like I said, pissed off or not, you don’t fucking do that to someone--” Bucky begins again. 

Natasha whirls around so that she’s facing him again and growls out, “He nearly blew Clint’s hand off!” 

“And I’m telling you, there’s no way he would do something that dangerous!” Bucky yells back. 

“And I’m telling you, he did! I don’t care what kind of prank he had planned with the toaster, I don’t care if it backfired on him, if he never meant for the damn thing to blow up on Clint, the point is, it did, and he should take some responsibility for that!” 

Clint waves his gauze wrapped hand at Coulson when the Agent gives him a questioning look. “I’m fine, really, just a few burns.” he shrugs. 

Coulson sighs. “And your hair?” he doesn’t want to ask, because in all this chaos he thinks it’s the last thing  he wants to know about, but it’ll bug him forever otherwise. 

Clint pouts. “Tony switched my shampoo with a fast acting hair dye.” His annoyance at the prank doesn’t stop the archer from comforting the man responsible, however, as he continues to rub a soothing hand up and down Tony’s back while Bruce works. 

Now that he doesn’t need to keep Buck and Nat from trying to kill one another Steve goes to stand on Tony’s other side, so that he can worry over him within close proximity. “Look, I know he can be reckless sometimes, but he wouldn’t go so far as to injure Clint.” He squeezes his lover’s shoulder gently. “Right Tony?” 

Tony doesn’t say a word in response, his stare as blank as it was during all this commotion. 

Coulson bites his lip, “Is he going to be ok?” He’s seen that look before, and it doesn’t sit right with the normally chatty, almost manic man he’s gotten accustomed to. 

Bruce sighs and speaks for the first time, “He’s in shock right now.” 

Steve’s hand tightens a little on his lover’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital then?” 

“Thankfully no, it’s not a severe physical shock--his blood pressure’s a little low but that’s to be expected. He’s got emotional shock in response to the panic attack he suffered earlier. He should recover in a couple of hours, for now I’d recommend you all take this fighting elsewhere, it’s only stressing him out further.” Bruce finishes wrapping Tony’s palm and then checks his pulse again to make sure it isn’t weak or racing. 

Bucky half whispers, half growls something in Russian that makes Natasha flinch, before visibly making an effort to calm down and walking over to Tony. “Can we take him back to our room?” 

Bruce nods. “That’d be best. Let him rest and keep him hydrated. He’s going to be confused once the shock wears off but that’s normal.” 

“Thanks,” Steve smiles at the doctor but it’s strained. 

Coulson sighs. “We’ll continue this later.” 


End file.
